Till The End
by DigisoulWings
Summary: After traveling to American to compete in the U.S Open, Ryoma is struck with Jet Lag, and Kevin is by his side. Rated T for sickness.


**Title:** Till The End  
 **Series:** The Prince of Tennis  
 **Paring:** Kevin/Ryoma  
 **Genre:** Hurt/Comfort, Friendship  
 **Rating:** T  
 **Type:** One Shot

* * *

 **[A/N: This is my first time writing about Jet Lag, I've done some light research on the subject to hopefully capture it correctly. -ritzy ]**

Between the time Echizen got off the plane, to the time when Kevin finally found him, the blond knew there was something wrong. The other had a dull pallor to his face, he sat hunched over in the chair he was perched on, and his hands were shaking. "Echizen, you alright?"

Eyes moved, head following, as Ryoma's gaze settled on the blond, beads of sweat dotting his forehead. "Kevin, what do you want?" Pursing his lips, Kevin leaned to place a hand on the seated male's forehead, to which the weaker knocked away pathetically.

"Hey.." He began, sitting next to his friend. "I think the flight took a lot out of you." Kevin's brow furrowed as he removed his ever present sunglasses to run a hand over his head. "I think you're sick."

The drowsy male lurched forward after Kevin's deduction, groaning through a dry heave, hands clutching his stomach. "Ngh.." Leaning after the convulsion, Ryoma closed his eyes.

 _Echizen, you're a handful._ Reaching to grab his arm, the blond pulled Ryoma around his neck, and hauled him into a cart, along with his duffle bag next to the seat. Pushing it down the stretch of terminal, and toward the doors, a car was waiting for them - the man instructed to get Ryoma to his hotel.

...

The elevator was one struggle Kevin hadn't thought of, as he crossed through the shifting doors into the lobby. "Is something wrong sir?" The bellhop pressing a button on the nearby contraption noticed Kevin's predicament. Weighted down by both Echizen, and the other's duffle bag, he was staggering. "Let me help." Shifting the weight, he relinquished his hold on Ryoma, watching the older male pick the boy up in his arms. "What floor sir?"

"Third floor." As they stepped onto the elevator, Kevin sighed, taking a glance at the weak Tennis player in the bellhop's arms. When they reached the floor, he reached for his friend, and the older man deposited Ryoma's arms into Kevin's grip. Searching in his pocket for the room key, the blond managed to get the door open with the added weight.

"Thanks, but I'll take it from here." Nodding to the bellhop, the blond edged inside the room. Tossing the bag near the rest of Echizen's belongings, Kevin hoisted the boy's body up to the bed near the window.

...

His breathing was heavy, and his eyes were squeezed tight. Kevin likely knew what was wrong, as he had once experienced it himself - Ryoma had Jet Lag. Quickly the blond made his way to the bathroom, looking under the sink for a small bucket, lucky for him there was one, and he also snatched a rag from a drawer, wetting it under the sink's stream of water.

As soon as he came back to the bed, Ryoma was up, and he looked worse. He made a sound like he was gagging, and pulled Kevin and the bucket closer, leaning his head down to throw up into the container, back and sides heaving as he pulled back. Ryoma blinked wearily as he felt the blond wipe his mouth with the washcloth.

Ryoma wanted to leave, he didn't care that he was sick. Though, if he tried, he was sure Kevin would stop him. Drooping eyes gazed at the blond, as another painful shiver wracked his body. "Get lost." He croaked, and leaned back in the bed, moving an arm over his eyes.

"Echizen Ryoma, you can't be left alone. Not like how you are." Putting the wash cloth aisde, he went to go and dump the bucket. After rinsing it out, he brought it back, setting it beside Ryoma on the bed. "You need to get better, so we can play." Sitting on the opposite bed, the blond crossed his arms.

Ryoma didn't like it, but Kevin was as stubborn as he was himself. He'd not get rid of the one he often thought of as a rival, and also friend. Closing his eyes, he kept his arm stretched over his face as his stomach still churned, and his head pounded.

...

As the time passed, Kevin watched Ryoma sleep, and made sure he didn't choke on anything he needed to throw up, hauling him upright, and placing the bucket before him every time. Even when Ryoma tried to push him away, the blond was attentive. Recalling his own battle with Jet Lag, his lips twisted into a frown of sympathy, although he was sure the other would never call it that.

Sleeping for several hours, Ryoma soon awoke to Kevin shaking him, and helping him to sit up. "Here. Eat this," Looking down at the tray on his lap, he saw some juice, a Donut, and some pills. "That guy from the Drug Store across the street gave me the Donut free. I told him about you being sick and he told me these pills would help."

Staring at Kevin like he had said something really wierd, Ryoma reluctantly took the pills, drinking down the juice, and began to nibble on the Donut. "Thanks..." He said finally, as the other washed out the bucket in the bathroom again, replacing it under the sink. At least then, he'd hopefully get back to full health in a matter of days and then he could go out and enjoy New York, as well as the upcoming tournaments.

Kevin came back in the room, smiling, with hands in his pockets. Lifting his head, he eyed Ryoma. "I'll chase after you till the end of time, Echizen Ryoma. If that's how long it takes for me to beat you!" Chuckling, he bumped fists with the other, then left Ryoma to nap.

They'd play Tennis till they both dropped, and they would enjoy every moment.


End file.
